


Laces

by NotJustFeet



Series: We Have Ducks? [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Ducklings - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, duck!fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotJustFeet/pseuds/NotJustFeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of 'Peep'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laces

**Author's Note:**

> So, I fell in love with this universe, and writing fluff makes a change from melodramatic angst :) So we get more duck!fluff.

Natasha thought she knew Clint rather well. After all, he had saved her life all those years ago. They had been partnered nearly from that moment, and friends for almost as long. And still, he surprised her.

When he vanished for a week, she wasn’t too worried. He did this sort of thing now and again, claimed it was his way of unwinding from a stressful mission, and he just wanted to be on his own, thank you very much.

She hadn’t wasted much effort in looking for him when the other members of the team had asked her, but in truth, she couldn’t actually find him (she tried, out of pride, later). Eventually he’d emerge, with that look of mischief in his eyes, but it wouldn’t be anything new, or special.

However, it was ducklings.

There was one sitting his hair, preening the strands. One was on his shoulder, tickling his earlobe with its down. Two were on his lap, being petted. And there was one at her feet, peeping curiously at her.

And they were in the elevator.

She hesitated, on the verge of stepping in.

“Hi, Tasha,” Clint said, looking up, and making the duckling on his head slide a little precariously. “Going down?”

“I was,” and she stepped inside the lift, careful to step around the curious duckling.

“Don’t mind Red, she’s nosy.”

Natasha crouched to look Clint straight in the eyes. There was no glazing there, no sign of drugging or concussion. He didn’t appear to be impaired, he recognised her.

Hm. Ducks were new for Clint.

“I’m no crazier than usual, Tash,” Clint said. “And you have a duckling on your foot, by the way.”

Red was making herself comfortable amid Natasha’s laces, peeping and squeaking away to herself.

“Ducks, Clint?” and Natasha said more words with the quirk of an eyebrow than could have been said in five minutes.

“I rescued them after that battle in the park. Couldn’t just leave those eggs sitting, could I? So I brought them up here, kept them warm, and here we have five healthy ducklings. That’s it.”

Natasha looked at Clint.

Then down at the duckling pecking her laces.

“Your Dad’s crazy,” she told it.

Clint’s beaming smile nearly lit the elevator.


End file.
